


The Right to Rule

by VoiDreamer



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, From Kadara with Love, Laying it all on the line, Romance, The cost of victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-16 16:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10575492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoiDreamer/pseuds/VoiDreamer
Summary: “If you plan on shooting me, then I suggest you do it now. You won’t get another chance to kill me, and I promise that when I leave this cave, Kadara will be mine.”*Spoilers for the Kadara Arc*AU in which Ryder, not Reyes, makes that fateful shot and becomes the leader of Kadara.[F!Ryder x Reyes Vidal]





	1. Queen of Kadara

Reyes had been planning his confrontation with Sloane almost from the moment she had placed herself on Kadara’s throne. The de facto queen of a criminal empire, Sloane represented every petty self interest Reyes knew he possessed. And yet he had loathed her, with a passion he felt for only a few facets of his life. Though he possessed many of her same traits, he also understood that any victory over their fellow human beings was a hollow one indeed.

It was not power he was interested in, though it was a convenient byproduct. Rather he wanted to _be someone_ , with the influence to see his own vision of peace realized.

It was a dream that had seemed almost within reach when he met Ryder at Kralla’s Song.

She became the catalyst for the final few steps, speeding the process with such skill that what had started as amusement became a budding respect before transforming into something that felt uncomfortably like affection.

Ryder was nothing like he imagined, a rigid stickler for rules and decorum even in the deepest bowels of Kadara’s underworld. But she knew herself, and Reyes came to rely on her strength even as he found his own faltering.

He was a man of secrets, always had been. But she made him wonder if he might be able to share the shadows that clung to him with such regularity, the bits of deception that he turned with such skill.

In the end he decided there was too much risk, the fight for Kadara’s future had to come first. And even if he _dreamt_ of such things, of taking her in his arms and telling her the truth _, all of it_ , there was too much at stake now.

Ryder would be furious, but he would ask her for forgiveness. He was not sure he had it in him to beg, but he had come to find there were few things he would not do for her.

And so he laid out his final play with all due haste, choosing to lure the Queen of Kadara out for what would be, he believed, his greatest triumph.

The rules would be simple, a trial by combat, a one-on-one fight to the death.

What actually happened was exactly as he had planned, but nothing like what he had prepared for.    

And as he watched Sloane stagger back, shot through by a well aimed blast of a pistol rather than the bolt of his sniper’s rifle, Reyes realized he had never truly factored in how truly potent betrayal could be, and how costly his own lies could be.

For in his confidence, his _arrogance_ , he had underestimated the one woman who, above all others, he should have treated with caution.

He was a dangerous man, a master strategist, but in the end _she_ had made the winning move.

“Ryder?”

He turned around just in time to see her holster her gun, her expression impassive as she looked up. Calm, collected, as if she had no idea that she had completely upended every plan he had made for the past eight months.

_Why had she-_ Reyes shook his head. “I don’t...understand.”

“You lied to me.” Ryder’s voice betrayed nothing, and there was something unsettling in the way she addressed him so precisely, “And if it is one thing I cannot stand, it is when people do that.”

“I did not mean-”

“What you meant is irrelevant now, Reyes Vidal.” She gestured to where her turian companion was heading towards the cave entrance, hailing their ship.

“The Initiative will take Kadara now, the way it meant to. We’ll establish a colony and resettle the Angara that came before.”

Her plans were so inline with his own that he ached.

“Why?” He asked roughly, and they both knew he was talking about more than just establishing the colony.

“You know I don’t deal in long odds.” Ryder folded her hands behind her in a deceptively relaxed parade rest, “I was not going to trust the Initiative’s fate on Kadara to a man who has looked me in the eye for _months_ and lied about who he was.”

“I had good reasons.” He protested.

His words brought a small smile to her lips, a sharp and bitter thing that twisted her serene features, “So do I.”

His frustration mounted, “The Collective is _mine_ , control of Kadara will be _mine_. ”

Behind Ryder, the Krogran bristled, “Is that a threat you really want to try and carry out  right now?”

But one gesture from her, one small flick of her wrist and his bluster went quiet, so still that the silence sent a chill down Reyes’ spine.

And he watched as her eyes,  now so flat and cold, traced over his shoulder to where the Collective sniper remained in the dark.

“If you plan on shooting me, then I suggest you do it now. You won’t get another chance to kill me, and I promise that when I leave this cave, Kadara will be mine.”

She watched the sniper, but the words were for him.

The decision, she left entirely up to him.

_Was she a rival in his way, trying to goad him into revealing his final hand?_

_Or was this part of some greater plan that she was trying to get him to see?_

“The exiles will never bow to the whims of the Nexus.” He warned.

Her eyes glittered like chips of ice, “I know.”

“You’ve destroyed all of my plans, for what?”

Her smile returned, a vague thing that reminded him too much of their night drinking on the rooftops, watching the sunset.

Soft eyes, and a tender heart beneath all that responsibility.

Someone who _saw_ him.  

And that’s when he _knew_.

“Don’t shoot!”

Turning with a shout, Reyes raised his hands to prevent it but he was too late.

He had hesitated a moment too long.

And there was no mistaking the sharp crack of the shot, no _stopping it_.

The cave echoed with the thunderous sound as his world came crashing down.

And that was the day, the _moment,_ the Charlatan died.


	2. Heavy is the Head (that Wears the Crown)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is high on emotions, angst and descriptions of blood so please be aware. 
> 
> To be honest, I thought this one was going to be pretty tame, but it seems like our favorite two-some have some very interesting perspectives on things. 
> 
> I hope this chapter proves to be some food for thought. I've always thought that Reyes won his victory a little too neatly, and wondered what would happen if he really was as emotionally involved as Sloane had been when she decided to confront the man responsible for attacking Kaetus. 
> 
> I'll be curious to see what you all thought!

    Reyes has played the imposter many times, has used all manner of trickery to be someone other than who he says. But as he sits in the throne room in what was once the Outcast base he is confronted with the very uncomfortable reality that this time there is nowhere to hide.

The thought  seems to make the days pass by more slowly, and even now, nearly two weeks after the events in the cave, each moment ticks by with exquisite agony.

Beside him Keema seems to feel the same, and the two of them share a long look when the last of the settlers leaves with their issue resolved.

“So, how does it feel?” There’s no missing the resentment in his friend’s voice, but Reyes is long past feeling any sort of guilt. If he could muster the energy to feel something more than quiet agony he supposed he would have.

Sloane is dead, and in that he takes comfort.

But the rest of it has become a mess, and _that_ rests largely on his own shoulders. Just as the responsibility now falls to him, to _Reyes Vidal_ , at the command of Kadara’s newest queen.

She might have been gravely injured, but Ryder had made her will known up until the moment she had collapsed from the blood loss that even her professionalism could not overcome. Her crew had only been too happy to execute her decisions, and so into the vacuum of power they had thrown him. A figurehead of the initiative, they had introduced him to Addison that very day.  

It was not what he had promised Keema, not the situation they had worked towards for so long but, at least for now, Kadara is his. Perhaps the most jarring thing about the whole situation is that being  ‘Reyes Vidal’ is just as easy as it was as the Charlatan. In some ways it is almost easier, for the Initiative has resources that they do not hesitate to send, especially now that he has _her_ blessing.

And though the irony is unmistakable, Reyes finds that he _is someone_ now.

The doors to the throne room slam open a moment later, and Vetra strides in for her usual chat. She is early though, at least two hours before she’s usually due. Her presence has become a familiar one in the past few weeks, but not necessarily a welcome one.

She has been the enforcer, the iron will of the Initiative, and unlike the more rigid of the crew, she has the experience to manage the different channels that make up Kadara’s brand of politic. It is through _her_ manipulations that Keema is still on their side rather than working against them.

Pausing to survey the room, Vetra gestures all the usual people out and waits for them to follow her instruction. It is only when they’ve gone, the door snapping quietly shut, that she even starts to address him.

“It suits you.”

It’s impossible to tell if she means that truthfully or if she’s being properly ironic, but Reyes finds little joy in her comment.

“Oh?” Brows raising, he tries for some semblance of personality, but there’s a knot in his stomach and another at his throat that seem to stifle even his smallest efforts.

“That chair, it _screams_ important, let’s everyone know exactly who you are.” And Reyes can hear it now, the vicious pleasure in her voice as if she is seeing justice done.

Rising from the throne to try and displace the sharp ache in his chest, Reyes turns away. But Vetra’s words follow him, nipping at his heels like those damnable adhi.

“It’s just a chair.” He says lamely.

“That _throne_ is meant for the big-wig on Kadara,” she responds pointedly, “And it is _that man_ who is going to _own_ every decision he makes, the good and the bad.”

“I know.” He has come to accept that icy claw of dread in his gut, the weight of responsibility. Out of the corner Reyes sees Vetra turn to leave.

“Why did you visit?” He asks, “It could not have been to just bestow upon me the usual reminder of my good fortune.”

She pauses, “The doctor figured you’d be around to visit like usual. She wanted to let you know that you’ll need to show up a bit earlier today.”

“Did she say why?”.

Vetra doesn’t look like she wants to share, but she delivers her message anyway.

“Something about not wanting to make a bad situation worse.”

He does not know what to make of _that_ , but he nods wordlessly as he turns to follow her back to the Tempest. She has clearly left her warning to the last minute, but he’s not about to call her on it.

He has better things to do with his time than lose it arguing with her.

 

“Ryder.”

It’s quiet in the heart of the Tempest, almost silent with the majority of her team milling about Kadara Port. _Too silent_ perhaps for there is no way for him to miss the thundering of his heart in his ears.

What would she say if she could see him now?

So pale, almost sickly, it is only the slow rise and fall of her chest that demonstrates how alive she still is.

Sliding onto the bed beside her, Reyes does not dare lie down, but he cannot stop his hand from gently grazing the side of her cheek, the delicate whorl of her ear. And though he had not realized he was holding his breath, the air shudders out of him when Ryder turns toward his touch.

Her wound is hidden beneath the thin material of her shirt, but he can see the edge of it there in the large gap at the top of her shirt, a jagged lancing shot that still has the power to freeze the air in his lungs.

He had chosen his marksman because the man was very good.

But the man was human too, and between Reyes’ shout of desperation and what must have been surprise, the killing shot had turned into something ever so slightly _less_ , enough to give Ryder a chance at survival.

But the damage had been done, to them both.

He can still remember it clearly, and the memory leaves his skin clammy with the rush of such visceral fear. The burn of his voice in his throat, his bellowed shout of denial, the look on her face when she managed to look up from where that bullet had stuck.

The blood on both their hands as they had struggled to stem the bleeding. And when that had failed, the numb acceptance of her words, her _will_ as they both believed it to be her end.

It was why, even now, he did as she had asked. And from that day forward, the report of both deaths, Sloane Kelly _and_ the Charlatan had remained uncontested.  The Initiative had then proceeded to set up _Reyes Vidal_ as her spokesperson.

He could no longer live in the shadows, and it was thanks to her that he was now thrust into the light. In retrospect, he supposed he should have known something like this should have happened. Ryder always had been that paragon of virtue.

“Is this your way of apologizing, visiting me every day?”

The words snap him back to the present, and when he blinks he finds a pair of somber eyes looking back at him.

 “ _Ryder_.”

It’s the first time she’s been awake for one of his visits.

And not for the first time does she leave him conflicted, wanting to both leave and stay, to _touch_ her again and yet fear the action in equal measure. He tucks his hands into his pocket before she can see how he trembles.

“Lexi mentioned you had been coming around, I didn’t actually believe her.” There’s a vulnerability in her voice that makes him wince, “I didn’t know if you would want to speak to me, so I kept to my schedule, took my naps when I was told. But it's been weeks and I had to know.”

She gives him a rueful look that makes his heart ache in his chest, makes what he has to do next all the more painful.

“Reyes?” She asks, “What is it?”

“It’s true.” He says at last, and the pull of the words threaten to topple him, “I’ve been here _every day_ since you were shot. I wasn’t sure if you would want me here, and for a while I didn’t care, I _had_ to be here.”

He laughs, but it is a scared, nervous thing, “But the truth of it is that I realize it’s been quite the opposite. No one else wants me here, and that is what it is. But if you feel the same as they do, then I will go.”

“It’s been quite the opposite?” Ryder turns the words over, in that way she does, and lets them sit between them, to settle in the space between their bodies and just _breathe_. There’s something in his words that makes her wary, it is not until she looks at his pale face that she realizes what it is.

“Do you _want_ me to turn you away, Reyes?”

“No.” The word is spoken on a rough whisper, a hoarse sound accompanied by a sharp shake of his head, “But I will, if you ask it of me.”

He is usually so persuasive a man that it is painful to hear him tell such bald lies, to see his performance be so wholly unconvincing.

“Is this to be your punishment then?” She asks quietly, looking at him with such disappointment, such pain, “You want me to send you away, to leave you on Kadara to face your fears alone?”

“I-”

He is a man haunted, and all he can do is nod, even as he has to force his trembling hands deeper into his pockets.

_Let her hate him._

_Let her leave_ loathing _him._

He swallows hard as the feelings barrel through him, at the expression on her face.

_Let her_ forget _him._

_But let her live._

Her eyes fill with tears.

“I refuse.”

Spoken with such vicious softness, her words are full of heart, courage.

“I will _not_ be used in this way.” She says as she struggles into a sitting position, “I _refuse_ to be the tool you use to break your own heart, to _punish_ yourself for a mistake you made.”

That she can see it so clearly, know him so well, makes his heart feel as if it has already broken. 

“Leaders are shaped through mistakes, Reyes.”

“This was _more_ than a simple miscalculation.” He rebuts with a scowl.   

“You do have a habit of it,” she admits with a faint smile, “This _is_ just the first time you’ve shot at a Pathfinder.”

“ _Don’t_ joke about it.” He says tersely.

“Why? Because I almost died?” There’s an odd look in her eye now, and Reyes watches as the woman he knows disappears beneath that heavy mantle of _Pathfinder_.

“Being a leader means you hold the lives of hundreds of people in your hands, whether or not you’re ready. You _will_ make mistakes, people _will_ die, but you’ve got to keep trying. It’s a _struggle_.”

She looks up at him, “You _know_ that. Or was being the Charlatan just for fun?”

“Of course not.

“You’ve done the same things I have, perhaps even more.”

“Yes, but-”

“People have died on your watch, Reyes, people have been shot. So why is this so different?!”

“Because none of them were _you_!” And the words are ripped from him with such force that he staggers back.

“Don’t you understand?!” He asks, tormented past rational thought, “You were never supposed to be there, and yet when you _were_ \- and for a split second it seemed to change _nothing_.”

He looks horrified with himself, “Do you know what it felt like to have your _blood_ sliding over my hands? To know that I was solely responsible for what appeared to be your _death_?”

Voice ragged, he pressed his hands to his eyes, “Every night I wonder why I didn’t speak out sooner, why I didn’t stop that bullet from leaving the barrel.”  

“So you didn’t you enjoy it?”

Reyes jerks back as if she had hit him.

“Is that the sort of man you think I am, Ryder?”

“No.” Emphatic, there’s not a trace of humor on her face now, “But I suspect that’s the sort of man _you_ fear you are. The sort of leader you think you will be.”

“I thought the Charlatan was the very worst of me.” He admits in a pained whisper, “But what if _I, Reyes Vidal,_ am just as bad - what is Zia was right?”

For a long moment Ryder says nothing, just stares at him.

And then, in the hushed air of her room,  she slowly reaches up to unbutton the top of her shirt.

First button.

Second button.

On the third  he notices her hands are trembling.

“Ryder-”

“Help me.” She says quietly.

He feels paper thin, vulnerable in a way he has never felt before, but he’ll deny her nothing. And when at last that button is open, exposing a wide swatch of chest, she takes his hand and presses it right over the scarred flesh.

Reyes chokes on emotion but dares not pull away for fear of hurting her.

“ _You_ stopped me from bleeding out,” She says at last, angling her head so that her voice whispers in his ear, “It was your hand, _right here_ that saved me.”

When he says nothing, she continues, “ _You_ were the one who carried me to Lexi, and _you_ have been the one to visit me every day since. Are those the actions of a monster, Reyes?”

Her fingers curl around his wrist so that she can feel his steady pulse beneath her fingers.

“I’m not sure I can do this.” He says brokenly, unable to look at her “I don’t know that I can rule Kadara.”

Ryder’s lips press to his brow in a tender, lingering kiss.

“That’s precisely why you need to try.”


	3. Rules of Inheritance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, here is chapter 3 for this one.
> 
> I had some recent feedback that said I should be more mindful of how the characters interacted with each other (especially in chap 2). 
> 
> I appreciated the feedback and spent a lot of time trying to pair down what was said in this chapter vs. what I left out. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Best,  
> V

They lay quietly on the bed for an eternity.

Or perhaps it is just the blink of an eye and something beyond them both has stretched it out so that they might remember it for much longer.

It has been one week since their conversation aboard the Tempest. And while Reyes still makes regular trips to see her there, today marks the first day that she has come to him. 

He likes seeing her in his apartment, likes even more the sight of her next to him in bed. 

Wrapped around her, feeling the warm press of her back on his chest, Reyes watches as her hands wrap themselves around his own, holding  _ him  _ in return. 

The sun is already starting to set, turning the sky the deep orange of brushfire, but all he can see if the kiss of it on her skin, the way he did not so long ago. Reverent, like it knows to warm rather than burn.

“So, what happens now?”

_ With us _ . 

The thought escapes him and he winces at the awkward way the question hangs in the air, disrupting the quiet. 

“We’re on borrowed time, aren’t we?” Her response is gentle, more mindful of his vulnerability than he would like. 

He sighs, burying his face in the soft junction of her shoulder and neck before he responds, “I want to stay here.”

He does not qualify his words more than that, but there’s no mistaking his intention when his lips snag the curve of her cheek. 

_ By your side. _

She laughs tenderly, but this time she cannot read his thoughts.

“I want to stay in your bed too. But something tells me Kadara will be a tempting mistress, even if I  _ do  _ want to take you with me when I go.” 

Her words are not so much an offer as a wish. And though his stomach twists guiltily, they both know he cannot follow. 

“I would-” 

Her finger on his lips silence him before he can apologize, “That’s what I love about you. That you see this planet, every bright facet, every  _ dark corner,  _ and make it you responsibility. That you  _ believe  _ in it enough to stay.” 

That’s not to say she does not feel the same, but the mantle of responsibility has been on her shoulders from the beginning. She cannot afford to play favorites.

And he respects her too much to ask her to stay when they both know she cannot. 

He remains silent for a long time, before he tucks her hand firmly against his chest. 

“Kadara belongs to the Initiative now.” The words are firm, gruff. 

“She belongs to  _ me _ .” Ryder clarifies, “And though I refuse to call myself the  _ queen _ , there is a plan for what happens when I leave.”

“You need an heir  _ and  _ a spare.” Reyes said gently, “At least, that’s how the stories go.”

She laughs, charmed at his passable knowledge of ancient history. “You’re not wrong, so it is a good thing you and Keema get along so well.”

She sighed, “I thought about it for a while. In the end it made sense to disrupt things as little as possible. I suspect the two of you had already reached some sort of agreement before I arrived. Consider it good.” 

“But the Initiative-”

“Kadara needs autonomy to prosper, but we have no need for a pirate port. The Initiative needs something we can  _ trust _ .”

She looks up at him then, her smile a lopsided little thing that makes the corners of his own mouth curl upwards in response. 

“I am still learning what it means to be worthy of such trust, Ryder.”

“I certainly have a lot of practice with  _ that _ .” She grinned, “What’s a bit more help for my favorite scoundrel?”

“Oh...so now you agree, I am both a scoundrel  _ and  _ your favorite.” 

“Well, I say that to  _ all _ my favorites.” She winked, “But yes, I suppose you’ve found my secret.” 

“Speaking of secrets.” Reyes’ expression turned momentarily contemplative, “I wonder if I might share one with you.” 

“Another one?” Her brows rose, “I thought I told you to only share the big ones.”

“Oh don’t worry, my dear, this is perhaps the biggest one of them all.”

Her eyes darted south and Reyes had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter that threatened, his seriousness momentarily forgotten. 

“You minx.” He said fondly, “That was not what I meant.”

“No?” Her brows rose higher still until she looked at him quite comically, “Shame.”

Her hands began to wander beneath his shirt, “This maybe?”

He hummed in pleasure but shook his head, “Another strikeout, my dear.” 

“You know, you really shouldn’t tease me, Reyes.” Ryder complained as she adopted her best and most proper tone, “Lexi said I was not to do anything strenuous for at least another week.”

It was his turn to laugh and he rolled them both over so that he could lean over her, keeping her in the warm circle of his arms. 

“However tempting my dear, I promise that it is not  _ that  _ either.” 

She smiled up at him, kissing the corner of his mouth, “Alright then. What did you want to tell me?” 

“I love you.”

And just like that, the moment changed.

Gone was the lighthearted flirting of before, and in it’s place was the  _ truth  _ laid bare between them in a way it had never been before. 

“Wha-” Eyes wide, she looked up at him in silence, disbelief etched into every fine detail.

In the face of such stunned emotion, Reyes might almost have felt self conscious were he not painfully aware of how very lucky he was to have this opportunity to share this with her now, after so much strife. 

The events of the cave.

The agony that had followed. 

“I don’t need you to say anything.” He said into the silence, “You use to say the words to me, back  _ before _ .”

She said nothing, moved not an inch as he continued. 

“I’ve been meaning to mention it for a while now. But with everything that happened-” He broke off, cursed as his nerves left him unsteady, “If I had been a braver man, a  _ better  _ man, I would have managed this earlier.” 

Ryder remained silent for just a beat longer before her hands found their way to his cheeks, her voice reaching his ears. 

Her words, tender and adoring, were clear.

“You said it was a  _ secret, _ you silly man. I’ve know you loved me for a very long time. My feelings are unchanged.”

The words released such euphoria that Reyes did not know what to do save bask in it. It was as if he had  caught a part of that Kadaran sunset for himself, spun it around his heart. Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her palm, “Perhaps it was a badly kept secret. But I did want to say it, because  _ saying it  _ matters.”

It was these words that brought Ryder unexpectedly to tears. 

And when the first of those drops fell, it was with infinite tenderness that Reyes wiped them away. 

“I’m so sorry it took me this long to say it.” He said after a time, meeting her eyes.  

She smiled, her eyes still tinged with tears, “I didn’t realize how much it would matter to me that you did.”

“I’m glad.” Reyes brushed curve of her cheek, “That makes two of us.” 

And before she could say another word, could attempt to say more, he silenced her with a kiss. Unlike the deep heat of their first few encounters, this one was a sweeter, softer thing.

The start of something different, another facet on a relationship already made rich in experience. It was when he reached the opening of her shirt, to press his lips to the place where the scar touched her heart, that he realized that by saying it once he might never be able to stop himself again.

The words spilled from his lips in a litany. 

_ “I love you.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all,
> 
> This one came on a bit fast and furious - definitely a crazy plot bunny. 
> 
> I don't think this will be a big fic, but four chapters is where I expect this to sit. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all your support on all these ReyesxRyder fics - something about this pair is just my jam :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think - and if you have any suggestions please give me a shout! 
> 
> Much love <3 Voi


End file.
